


Voyages of the UNS Eve

by HawkeA



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alien Sex, Aliens, Bestiality, Breeding, F/M, Mind Control, Mind Rape, Multi, Other, Oviposition, Ridiculously Vulgar Star Trek Pastiche, Science Fiction, Space Opera, Tentacle Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:20:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25834879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawkeA/pseuds/HawkeA
Summary: The coincidentally all-female crew of the United Solar Nations Deep Space Survey Vessel Eve, on a 5-year mission to explore deep space, survey potential colonies for human habitation, make contact with new alien species (and fuck their own brains out on anything they find with a cock.). Result of an rp with Serena Starfall
Comments: 2
Kudos: 70





	1. S1E1: Encounter on Eden

The UNS Eve was one humanity’s crowning achievements. Sleek and efficient despite its massive size, with a crew of two dozen eager volunteers and a cavernous hold full of containment units and labs to gather exotic samples wherever they could find them. Without a single weapon more powerful than sedative darts, the brave, brilliant, gorgeous women of the crew had all committed themselves to five years in isolation from humanity’s teeming homeworld- with the guiding purpose of finding valuable, virginal worlds to colonize, and to make contact with the civilized, advanced alien civilizations long-range scans had almost guaranteed were out there. 

In order to economize resources and help ensure social harmony among the crew, naval command deferred to the results of deep sea submarine studies, and selected an entirely female crew. For the first month, spent nearly entirely in the bleak, lightless void of FTL, the ship ran like a machine, even while all the initial rush of excitement slowly faded away to the tedium of daily routine. 

That all changed when the Eve broke back into realspace, and took up orbit around Arterus IV, first potential colony identified by long range scans. The scans were..better than Captain Astor or any of the science teams had dared to hope. The hastily re-christened Eden Prime was a true garden world, teeming with native plant life with an atmosphere that all the orbital scans said should be perfectly healthy for any earth-native life to breath. For it to be the first prospect evaluated by the survey mission meant champagne being broken out in the officers mess, and significantly rowdier celebrations among the enlisted women. 

The next step was to ascertain if they really were as lucky as they seemed to be-was the soil as compatible as the atmosphere? If the planet could be farmed without habitat domes or terraforming, it would progress faster than any of the marginal and lifeless worlds colonized decades before it. A second home for humanity. 

And so, the first representatives of humanity to set foot on the newly claimed Eden was Doctor Pashence Marie, Chief of Xenobotony and one humanity’s foremost experts on alien ecosystems. Something of an eccentric, her hair was dyed indigo with gray blue highlights, her breasts only barely contained in the plunging neckline of her uniform top, makeup that would get any enlisted woman written up for uniform violations making her features even more striking and appealing than they would be otherwise. Staggering off the shuttle behind her were Ensigns Britto and Pellas, both weighed down and straining under all the sensors and survey equipment they would need. One brown-skinned, originally Brazilian, her uniform skirt constantly riding up and letting her ass hang out. The other blonde, pale skinned, one of the half-dozen perfect busty blondes that made up such a large fraction of the ship’s junior officers. 

The biome was tropical, and the air unbearably humid. As the three of them hiked from the conveniently bare cliffside they had landed on to the forest of shoulder-high, ruby-red grass that blanketed the region’s rolling hillsides. Three quickly spread out, barely staying within eyesight as they got to work taking the necessary samples. After a minute, the Xenobotonist was grinning from ear to ear. The world really was a paradise-the soil would support earth plants, and the alien grasses barely even competed with most staples they might want to grow. Getting down on her knees, she started taking soil and plant samples, beginning to dictate a report back to the ship in orbit. 

It was tedious, exhausting work, spending hours taking samples and readings of every microclimate, cutting off leaves of everything that even might be a different strain or species. So Ensign Pellas-Lindsey, as literally everyone who wasn’t filling out formal reports called the blonde-was taking a moment to wipe off her sweat-drenched face and pour water over her face when her sensor readings started going weird. She started paying attention when the ground began to shake, though. But before she could do anything but open her mouth to scream, the loose-packed soil exploded up from the ground. A dozen thick tentacles, rising easily a dozen feet in the air as they swayed. Ending in grasping, seeking, or strange, flower-like mouths that dripped something between spit and sap as they tasted the air. 

For a moment, they all just seemed to be swaying in the air, the flower-mouths turning, opening and closing like they were tasting the air. That gave Lindsey just enough time to look up and properly freeze up. Every woman on board had been selected for a psychological profile that wouldn’t hesitate to put the mission above their own well-being, and that always assumed the best of strangers and alien experiences. Combined with their strict orders not to accidentally cause a hostile First Contact event and, well-she basically just stood there as the flowers turned to face her-and then four tentacles shot out towards her. 

Dr. Pashence recovered her wits after a few seconds of shock and awe at the sheer immensity of the thing, running towards Lindsey with a cry. Just a few moments too late to do anything but get a tendril around her own ankle, trying to jerk her off her feet and hoist her into the air. She had to desperately scrable back and let the beast tear off her boot, forced to keep her distance and hope that whatever this thing was, it was peaceful. 

Ensign Britto turned and started running for the shuttle at the sight of her friend being dragged ten feet into the air, hanging upside down and forcibly spread-eagled with tentacles wrapped around each wrist and ankle. Blushing slightly as she saw the blonde’s skirt flip down and reveal she hadn’t worn any panties to cover her carefully waxed slit on the voyage to this virgin world. 

As the flowers began to rub against the blonde’s pale skin, smearing it with the overpowering sickly sweet smell of the botanical beast’s sap, Dr. Marie relaxed-it didn’t seem to be trying to eat her subordinate, after all. When one flower started smearing itself all over her lips until she had to breath it in, and the other two started to rub up her inner thighs, the Doctor started getting positively jealous of the noises the girl was making. 

Lindsey was-well, the ship’s mission statement didn’t exactly select against xenophilia. By the time the flowers pulled away, she had opened her mouth and was trying to make out with the flower, stretching her hips as wide as she could and bucking her hips to get some friction from the one rubbing against her already sopping wet slit. She actually let out a moan of disappointment when they pulled away-and then she saw what was rising out of the ground to replace them. The tips of the three tendrils were unmistakably phallic, unseathing form the tendril’s end in a foot-long, smooth, pulsing plant-cock that was already leaking its own sap. 

Hanging upside down as she was, Lindsey could see the tendrils rising towards her, and she opened her mouth eagery, trying to lean forward to get the first one inside of her as fast as possible. Slurping and sucking down the sickly-sweet sappy-precum to keep breathing even as the brainless breeding appendage took no notice and began slamming up her throat. Not quite silencing her squeal of delight as the other two reached their destination and began violating her other two well-lubed holes. Her longsuffering uniform dress gave up gravity combined with violent motion, and her generous bust-the results of student loans spent on gene therapy-broke free of her top and started bouncing wildly with every thrust.

Dr. Marie was seething with jealousy-and a few other things-as she watched the blonde enjoy the honour of First Contact. Muttering to herself, she dragged a camera out of her back and quickly set it up to record and stream directly back to the ship. Within minutes, every human pair of eyes for light years around was watching the blonde cum her brains out, bouncing wildly as three different alien cocks ravaged every one of her holes, tentacles wrapped around her arm and leg keeping her in place despite all the shaking. As soon as the stream was up and running, the good Doctor’s skirt was hiked around her hipes and her panties were around her knees, as she supported herself with one hand on the camera and enjoyed the show with the other. It’s not like she was in the frame, after all. 

The plant-alien took its time plowing the fields before it put down its seeds. Each phallus was just under a foot long, and their rhythm was ruthless. One always entirely hilted in whichever hole it was ruining, pulling out just as the next was reaching that point, holding with just an inch or two burrowed in and keeping the hole wide and ready, and then plunging back in as another pulled out. A ruthless, mechanical 12-second cycle. Again and again and again. 

Pashence was, needless to say, not paying too much attention to her environment. Hand buried between her legs, biting her lip to keep her moans from ending up on stream, she had no hope in hell of hearing the paws padding on the soil behind her, of the rustling of the ruby-red grass. So her first warning that there was more than one species of fauna around was when something heavy, hard, and fast slammed into her back and sent her tumbling onto her hands and knees, ass in the air, suddenly right in the foreground of the camera stream, a massive, angry looking feral alien on top of her-bone crests and wicked looking spine trailing down its back, claws digging into the soil on either side of the doctor’s head as its spit dripped down onto the back of her neck, her long, carefully dyed and treated hair in its jaws as it growled. Four more of the same species-the rest of the pack-quickly crowded around her. 

And she grinned, almost yelling with joy. She wasn’t going to get left out after all. Looking over her shoulder and winking at the camera, she brought up her knees and forced her ass in the air, shaking her hips as she presented her holes for use and abuse. The pack’s alpha was happy to take advantage, his tapered, uncomfortably hot, precum leaking cock sliding across her ass and lower back one, twice, and three times before it found a hole to bury itself in. 

Not the right hole-as her expression made extremely clear, captured as it was on stream-but still. 

The hot, tapered cock provided plenty of its own lube, at least. Stabbing into her deeper and deeper with every rough, fast, frantic thrust. Until the rough hairs of his underbelly were roughly rubbing against her ass, covering in awkward red scratches as he rutted her. Biting down into her hair, he jerked her head back with every thrust, forcing her back to arch up and driving her breasts into the loose, rough soil each and every time. By the time she felt the inflating knot slamming against her asshole, her hand was once again buried between her legs, the feeling of the softball sized inflamation ramming against her formerly tight hole enough to push her over the edge as she writhed in the dirt. 

\--------------------------------

Ensign Britto-Fabiana, to her friends-had run back to the shuttle, abandoning all her tools and sensors, and still needing a moment leaning against the entrance to catch her breath. Still, as fast as she could, the sweat-soaked, brown-skinned beauty engaged the shuttle and flew over the clifface and down into the hilly fields, hovering a dozen feet or so about the ground. Ready to dive in and rescue her superior officer and comrade 

And then she actually saw what the two of them were doing, and nearly screamed with jealousy.

Lindsey-the lucky bitch-was still suspended and stretched out, But the tentacles weren’t fucking her anymore. All three of them were buried in as deep as they could be, their lengths pulsing as one egg after another was slowly pumped deep in the blonde’s womb or guts. They were taking their sweet time doing it, too. 

Dr. Pashence was-well, the roar of the pack’s alpha is what drew her attention. Steeping off of her, his knot buried in her reddened and bruised ass as he pumped her womb full of watery alien jizz. Lifting her face up, the perverted xenobotonist was opening her mouth, eagerly letting the other four of the pack lick her face, nuzzle her, and engage in an obscene parody of kissing as their tongues ran against each other and she swallowed alien spit. 

When the beta of the pack growled at the others and mounted the Doctor’s face, letting her eagerly start licking and sucking his own bright red cock, Fabiana gave up and just leaned back, putting her legs up on the shutter’s control console and splaying them to get access to her slit as she enjoyed the show. 

\----------------------------------------------

After twenty minutes of gasping and gargling around the eggs getting pumped down her throat, the blonde ensign had been unceremoniously dumped onto the soft soil as the tentacles retreated beneath the ground. So bloated she could barely walk, and certainly in no state to do so regardless. By the alpha had torn his delfating knot out of Dr. Pashence, to be eagerly replaced by another hound from the pack, as she all but dislocated her jaw to take the beta’s knot in and let him pour their foul, water cum right down her throat. 

That’s about when Fabiana saw all the muted priority one communications that had been piling up in the shuttles HUD, given how distracted she’d been. Blushing and swearing out her breath, she landed the shuttle and ran out, grabbing and dragging her fellow Ensign in to return to the med-bay on ship. 

And just a minute or two after she lifted off, the pack alpha of the aliens rutting the good doctor recovered enough to decide that she was a bitch worth keeping. Roughly biting them by the scruff, he dragged the beasts currently knotted in her ass and mouth out of her (a profoundly uncomfortable experience that also left her drenched in the foul-smelling cum). 

Then, gripping her by the hair once again, he dragged her into the tall grass, the rest of the pack following behind them as they returned to their den. To be fair, it’’s not like she put up a fight. Really, beyond tearing off scraps of her uniform as she went, she seemed altogether eager. The ship xenobiologist would never forgive her if she didn’t figure out if they were cross-fertile, after all. 

It took a solid hour for Fabiana to find her. About five minutes after that, she realized the sedatives she used didn’t seem to be working-or at least, they were taking a lot longer than they were suppossed to to kick in. 

Eight hours later, Captain Serena sent down another away team in their second (of three) shuttles to retrieve the xenobotonist and ensign. They were easy to track, and easy to retrieve-the sedatives did work fine, eventually. Which had worked out badly for Fabiana. The two human women were just as unconscious as their ‘packmates’, though only exhausted in the normal way. Their skin was covered in small scratches and bruises from their rough treatment, their hair ragged messes from being jerked and bitten down on. And, obviously, they were all absolutely glazed and soaked through with the hot, watery, disgusting (in both smell and taste) alien cum. Fabiana was literally collapsed in a heap ina deep puddle of it, a cum bubble formed around her wide-open mouth, growing and shrinking with each ragged breath, streams still leaking freely from her gaping cunt and ass and dripping down into tehe puddle, following the slight slope in the rocks to congeal around her head. 

Pashence had gotten knotted in her cunt eventually. At the same time as she took yet another in her ass. And down her mouth. It’s exactly how the new team found her-she came two more times as they pulled her free of the knots, which didn’t quite do enough to get her back to useful consciousness again. Or maybe she was awake, but just too worn out and abused to do actually do anything. 

The recovery period for all three would be long. Lindsey would be able to carry the eggs to term, with constant medical care-but she would be useless for the foreseeable future. The eggs hatch one at a time, and it would be at a rate of one per month for a human body. On the plus side, they had a month to figure out what they were going to do with the first baby. On the plus side, after calling her a desperate whore CSO Rosie did say she’d been able to get enough of the precum off the body to synthesize the remarkably effective lube. ‘If you’re going to make a habit of fucking cocks bigger than your forearm”

The other two were-well, Dr. Janice in Xenobiology wasn’t happy. Not cross-fertile, apparently. But over the next days, the two of them found out the cum did have one effect. It was addictive-within a week, both of their sex drives were in overdrive, desperate to having something long and hard in every hole. Fabiana recovered within another week, at least. 

Dr. Marie? Well, she’s spent a lot of time fabricating knotted dildos, and made sure her name is first in line for the next away mission.


	2. The Caves of Persephone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Pashence gets filled up like she'd always wanted, and then some, saved from being chow for alien hatchlings by the heroic efforts of the marginally-less-fucked Commander Iryna. Ensign Sara very nearly gets throatfucked to death by a facehugger.

It was another four standard weeks of tedious, lightless FTL travel before the _Eve_ at the next colonization candidate identified by long-range scans. The only novelty available was watching Ensign Pellas get reduced to the status of a xenological experiment as the seed pods so rudely deposited in her used her as an incubator. Three weeks in, and Dr. Astara in xenobiology wasn’t even letting her leave the observation room. Not that she was able to under her own power. 

Well, there was that, and there was the chance to take advantage of the withdrawal effects the cannid alien cum was having on Ensign Britto and Dr. Marie. Fabiana recovered within a few days, but Pashence’s exposure was severe enough that the effects seemed permanent. Watching her break down in the middle of a conversation to run back to her overworked vibrators and knotted dildos-or just break down and beg an ensign to fist her in the hallway-never really got old.

Needless to say, when their next survey target-the newly christened Persephone-showed signs of complex life deep below the surface, she  _insisted_ she be part of the survey team.  She actually managed to keep a straight face when explaining it was because her expertise was needed to ‘study the local ecosystem’. It took quite a bit of effort not to notice all the sympathetic smiles and barely restrained laughter as she said it, but she managed that too. 

In order to avoid a repeat of last time, accompanying her was the rather amazonian Lt. Iryna, one of the ship’s minuscule compliment of security officers.  She was tall and copper skinned, with a flat stomach, toned muscles, and wild black hair long enough to hang over her generously endowed breasts. And she was under  _strict_ orders to keep her charges’ intact in body and mind. Or at least in a fit state to continue their duties. 

Filling out the team was another of the ship’s bubbly, busty, blonde ensigns-though in Sarah’s case that could easily be explained as family resemblance. She and her twin Amy weren’t scientific prodigies like their younger sister, but being the captain’s daughters was still a major help when it came to getting your first naval assignment. Even if in this case it mean lugging around all the survey and sensor equipment while the other two officers’ hands were full with (respectively) a sedative dart rifle, and a constant struggle to not drop everything and tear off your skirt to get some relief.

Not that the skirts lasted long. The caverns seemed to be volcanic-or at least they were more than hot enough to sell that story. Twenty minutes in, all three woman were stripping out of their swear-drenched uniformed and leaving them in a dry alcove on the cave wall. Thirty minutes of navigating through claustrophobic, jagged-edged caverns after that, and the only scrap of cloth that hadn’t been torn to rags on the floor was Sarah’s bra. 

It was two hours of hiking through the dark, cramped, winding tunnels-or, well, it would have been closer to ninety minutes if Pashence hadn’t broken down on two separate occasions, requiring the security officer’s increasingly irritated and roughly given ‘help’ to take the edge off before continuing. Something that that left her fist and the doctor’s inner thighs both absolutely glistening in their torches’ artificial light. 

Their destination was an underground lake-or possibly river, given the slow, lazy currently. B iol uminescent  plant life or fungus underneath the cloudy water gave the whole chamber an eerie sort of natural light. Not that any amount of eerie surroundings would have made Pashence wait a moment longer than she had to to peel off her boots and walk into the  pleasantly warm water.  When (to her slight disappointment) nothing instantly grabbed her and pulled her under, she she started pointing out where to put down the sensors for more details reads of the local life signs, and to see if the biome was terran-compatible. 

The other two women joined her, and they slowly walked deeper into the ankle-deep (well, for Iryna. Closer to the knee for the other two), opaque water. The plant life seemed to be ever-so-slightly predatory, if the way the strands of it seemed to try and entrap their feet were any indication. But still, after twenty minutes they were about ready to start the machines and get some soil and water readings. Sarah was taking a moment to pour the water over her face and chest to wash off some of the sweat when Pashence let out a loud gasp. As a thick, heavy, slimy, semi-translucent slug climbed up the inside of her leg, she was grinning like she’d won the lottery. “Looks like something’s alive down here.”

More slugs seemed attracted to the Doctor’s legs now, a half dozen of them -all easily a foot long, and a third of that across- crawling up her limbs. She let a nervous, eager giggle as the highest ones started crawling up her inner thigh, and she guessed where they would be going. She didn’t fight-she even tried to widen her stance to give them better access, before realizing that the slime trails they left behind seemed to be numbing her muscles. Paralyzing the prey.

And, while she was too much of an alien-loving whore to try fighting off the slugs, Iryna had strict orders to keep her in one piece. Calling over to Sarah-the blonde at the far end of the chamber, about to set up the last sensor-she barked out. “High steps! Don’t let them touch you!”

The security officer ran across the chamber and leaned down to try and pull the first slug off of her-already crawling up her inner thighs towards her very eager gash. It...was more difficult than she’d expected. She had to brace herself on the cave wall-below the water level-to get the leverage she needed to finally tear the thing off of the doctor, the suction of its slime breaking with a rather disgusting noise.

.... And that’s how the three of them found out the slugs could jump. Tensing and throwing itself out of her numbing hand right onto Iryna’s face, easily large enough to cover one eye-and everything from her hairline to halfway down her cheek.  Her one hand already numbing to the point that she couldn’t close her grip, she frantically tried to bring up the other-and found herself unable to jerk it out of the water, the kelp-life glowing plant life wrapping around and tentangling it. Leaving her bent over, face barely above water level, ass in the air, as the fat slug inched towards her mouth. 

She tried to resist, at least for longer than anyone else on the crew had managed so far. But when the first (and quickly enough the second and third) slugs crawled all the way up Pashence’s inner thighs and inter her eager, gaping gash, the good doctor came on the spot. Leaning forward while she still could, she leaned down on her elbows in the water. Which was enough disturbance to agitate even more of them. 

Two more slugs jumped up onto Iryna. Right onto her jiggling, hanging tits, the nipple just inches above the water line. As their circular, tooth-filled mouths opened and clamped down on her nipples, she shuddered and gasped long and loud. Which was all the opportunity the slug on her face needed.

Having made a respectable effort to protect her dignity, after that the toned security officer gave in completely. Hollowing out her cheeks as she sucked and suckled on the alien insect. Tongue running along and playing with it like she was kissing a lover. As Pashence had already found out, the slime caused quite a different reaction when it was touching something more sensitive than skin. And as more  of the slugs took advantage of how long her hair was, climbing out of the water on it, she just tried to lean down further to help them. When a particularly fat one jumped up and bit down on her clit to pull itself out, she had shoved her free hand into the water to support herself. Otherwise she probably would have fallen and drowned before she finished cumming. 

Sarah, meanwhile, was being  _smart._ Following orders, at least.  Standing on the soles of her feet, ready to jump out of the water the second she felt something brush against her leg.  And so, as she got ready to set down the last sensor in the centre of the strongest life signs the ship could detect, she took one last step. And heard a cracking, breaking noise. And then her leg was buried up to the knee in something warm, mushy, and painful against the skin. 

When the ensign felt the sharp, skittering legs of something crawl up her leg, she screamed out for help. For the moment, her two superior officers barely noticed. As the horrifying, centipede-like insectoid alien crawled up her back, leaving angry red pinpricks across her leg, ass, and right up between her shoulder blades, she desperately and futilely tried to pull her leg free of what seemed remarkably similar to quicksand. If anything, her struggles were just making her sink deeper, until her other leg was forced to splay awkwardly as she sank down to her thigh, bracing herself against the lake’s rocky floor with both hands.

The insectoid beast was clearly very unhappy with this strange thing that had ruined its carefully made nest. It crawled up and down her body, it’s sharp legs covering her in the tiny, uncomfortable red marks. When it hissed, it’s tongue shot out to taste her, feeling like vinegar-covered sandpaper on her tan, smooth, carefully exfoiliated skin. Then it crawled between her legs, and ran its tongue down there, too.

It crawled up her flat stomach and between the mountainous breasts she’d inherited from her mother, reaching from her collarbone to her chin and pulling itself onto her face. And that’s when she saw the obscene cross between a stinger, tail, and cock emerging from it. Nearly half as long  as its body, clearly prehensile and ending in a pointed bulge already dripping with something. 

That shut up her screams, at least. Hard to make much noise beyond gagging when the thing’s stretched across your face, legs digging into your skin and leaving you utterly blind, its phallic tail plunging between your full lips and right down your throat with the speed of an ambush predator trying to catch its supper. 

Trying to make the most of the situation and get it down quickly, Sarah did her best to blow the thing, running her tongue along the tail’s underside as she tried to suckle on it. The insect didn’t cooperate with that any more than it did her half-heated attempts to tear it off of her face. 

But while she was getting raped, her two superior officers were having the time of their lives. 

Pashence had voluntarily lowered her mouth to the water, opening it wide for any more slugs to enjoy as both her lower holes were stretched to capacity. A dozen slime trails crawled across her full, curvy ass, two of them struggling to wriggle through her gaping hole at the same time as more than she could count writhed over and on top of each other in her guts, their electric feeling their slime had inside of her leaving her desperate for more. 

She got her wish. Hey desperate, already-gaping pussy was being stretched to its uttermost capacity, as more then one flexible, slime-lubricated slug forced itself through her cervix and into her womb to make way for more pushing behind her. 

She was already bulging so much it would be natural to conclude the good Doctor was pregnant when she actually became so. Intertwining each other and curling up on themselves, the slugs did what came natural in such a dark, warm, wet new home. They began to lay eggs, and fertilize those already laid. In her womb, of course, but everywhere else inside of her they could find space, as well. Eggs by the dozens and hundreds, only barely beyond the level of the microscopic as they were laid. 

Of course, the sensation drove her even wilder, and made her cunt even more appealing wet and warm. 

Iryna was...not more dignified, in any real way, but she at least seemed less excessive as she gave up all pretense of fighting. The slug in her mouth had never gotten the whole way in, the last few inches of its fat, slimy body still hanging out her lips as she sucked and kissed it with an eager tongue and empty, blissful eyes. The feeling supplied by the two still biting down on her nipples-the suction, the weight, the milking sensation-explained quite a bit of that. And the dozens of them crawling over her breasts, arms, face, and back-her entire upper body almost covered in the writing black mass, numbing out almost every sensation but the electric pleasure of the slugs inside of her. 

The _rest_ of her lack of composure could be explained by the unusually fat and long example of the species between her legs slowly pulling itself inside of her. Longer and heavier than any of the others she or Pashence were dealing with, already bloated with eggs of its own. 

So, needless to say, Sarah was not getting any help any time. As she was brutally throatfucked, she stopped resisting entirely, almost swooning as her breasts bounced wildly with each rough thrust in and out of her increasingly scratched and raw throat, the invading appendage thick and long enough to entirely cut off her airway.  Her lungs were beginning to burn and her arms had fallen limply to her sides, thoughts increasingly difficult to hold in her head as she was abused. 

...Pashence was having trouble holding thoughts in her head for an entirely different reason, of course. By now it was her bloated, pregnant stomach that was keeping her face above water level, not her entangled limbs, her eyes had rolled back into her head and her mouth hung open, tongue lolling out as she shuddering and weakly tried to buck her hips each times another slug crawled in or out of any of her ruined holes. 

So it was up to Iryna to save the day. Eventually. More due to dumb luck than anything. The slug that had now wriggled comfortably inside of her and curled against her cervix was a special breed, and as it laid its eggs it began to leak certain pheromones and chemicals into its convenient host. To carry it’s safely ensconced eggs to a different lake, to spread over a new environment. Or, as the mammalian brain interpreted the signals, to go ‘Home’. 

But, helpfully, the pheromones had an effect on all the native life clinging to her and crawling inside of her mouth and tightly entangling her wrists and ankles. Wouldn’t be very helpful if the would-be carrier never left the cave, after all. And so, as the noticeable thinner alien slug slithered out of her, all of the other locals began to release her as well. 

Iryna slowly recovered from the rapture of her impregnation, her head clearing over the course of what felt like an eternity until it was over, at which point it had ended far too quickly. But as the naked amazon stood up, soaked copper skin glistening the dim organic light, she felt the sudden, overwhelming compulsion to  **get out** . 

But she was a fucking  _ security officer _ and she wasn’t about to abandon her charges to this subterranean obscenity. No matter how much fun it was. 

Thankfully, the sedative dart gun was waterproof. Pulling the insect’s stinger-tail out of the unconscious blonde’s throat clearly wasn’t fun for her, but that plus a Heimlich Maneuver got her breathing again. Then she threw the blonde bimbo over her shoulder and started the hike bake. 

...Three hours and change later, Sarah was securely tied down on the shuttle, and Iryna was back to get Pashence. Who by now seemed  barely more intelligent than the slugs making her home, hollowed out inside, shuddering and moaning as every collision shifted the slugs inside of her. Iryna felt sickly jealous every time she felt the doctor writhe. Dragging her through the claustrophobic tunnels took easily another three hours, and left the security officer entirely drained and ready to collapse herself, gene therapy and augmented strength or no. 

Luckily for Ensign Astara and Dr. Marie, Dr. Alice Morgan-the  _ Eve’s _ medical officer-was a genius and a savant. Just a few days latter, some light surgery, and a stomach pump later, Sarah was almost as good as new, less a hoarse voice and limp that would clear up over a week or two. Pashence was a more difficult case, given the extreme scientific value of seeing how the eggs matured. The entire ship got to enjoy watching every slug get pulled out of her with tweezers at least. Which Janice-Dr. Astara, technically, Sarah’s younger sister, scientific prodigy, and ship’s xenobiologist- probably made more of than  _ strictly _ necessary. Not than the brain-dead egg-sack was complaining. 

L ieutenant Iryna didn’t feel the need to identify herself as a vector for alien contaminants, after all, why would she?


	3. S1E3: Personal Diplomacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Serena, her sister Rhian, and Ambassador travel to an alien spacestation to open peaceful relations. Serena gets literally mind-fucked by the tentacle-headed psychic slaver, Mia gets double-teamed by his brain-dead thralls, and Rhian is kept as a pet after they leave.

The _Eve’s_ arrival in the Lithid system was heralded by the blaring of alarms that most of the crew had forgotten about, having been dormant since the last shakedown run in Jovian orbit. It had been nearly a year since they’d left a system colonized by a spacefaring civilization, after all – and where they were now was a hell of a lot more militarized than anywhere back in the UNS.

Wretched out of hyperspace earlier than planned, the Eve had spent the past several hours on anxiety-inducing high alert as the unarmed diplomatic ship was menaced by a trio of alien craft, dull black nautiluses covered in bulbous hanger bays and weapon batteries, not even bothering to pretend they were listening to humanity’s increasingly desperate hailing attempts as they made a show of keeping their weapons trained on the trespassing explorers. It was very likely only the Captain’s decision to power down every not absolutely vital- everything but comms and life support, really – that kept them from being blasted into so many chunks of bloody salvage, hundreds of light years from home.

But eventually, after an absolute eternity – eight terran standard hours, to be precise –. someone’s nerve broke, and a shuttle emerged from the leading nautilus. First Contact Protocols were clear and ironclad, and even if they had no hope of understanding the alien’s language as it stood, the ship’s Captain was accompanied by her dedicated ambassador and xenocultural expert as she waited at the airlock. That the ensign waiting to her left was actually the captain’s younger sister wasn’t exactly coincidental, but the eager young blonde had been willing to just about _anything_ to earn the privilege, and wasn’t about to let her fellow ensigns take it back after everything they’d used for her before they agreed.

Captain Serena Astor was every bit the beauty one would expect, having met some her crew. Young for her rank, the slim, top-heavy blonde wore her hair loose and long, its tresses falling between her shoulder blades, bangs carefully kept in line to ensure that none of the effort spent on eye-liner, mascara, blush, or tastefully flesh-toned lipstick was needlessly obscured. The already-flattering UNS formal uniform had clearly been picked to match her frame, and not her bust – the skirt and blouse clung to her narrow hips and stomach nicely, but only by leaving the top three buttons undone and giving up all pretense of hiding her bra was it able to contain her breasts, each only barely smaller than her head. Which was, of course, _exactly_ how she liked it. 

Ambassador Mia was, by contrast, positively petite. The pale redhead only barely came up to the captain’s shoulders, and all of her proportions fell much more comfortably into what the tailors had expected when designing a uniform for someone of her height. The scientist hadn’t bothered much with makeup, perfectly happy with the way her skin brought out her freckles and pale grey eyes. A highly trained xeno-anthropologist, she’d spent years of her life learning to deduce social clues from almost nothing and determine how to avoid giving offence to seemingly brutal or savage alien species, and she could barely contain her enthusiasm as she waited, hands running over her body in anticipation.

Ensign Rhea wasn’t high ranking, or an irreplaceable genius or, being honest, even the Captain’s favourite relative serving on board the Eve. Which might have been the other reason she was the woman in the clingy red Ensign’s uniform for this delicate and risky meeting with an alien species. The ideal of the beach blonde, her long, athletic legs led up to a tight ass, a flat, toned stomach, a pair of p roud, perky breasts that spilled out form her chest, and finally a pretty, full-lipped face crown with shoulder length hair whose roots hinted it probably wasn’t naturally as blonde as it seemed. She was almost absurdly grateful to her big sister for the chance to be part of this, her lips in a wide grin as she waited. 

At least, once gathered, the three of them – and the full compliment of security officers waiting anxiously around them – didn’t have long to stew in anticipation.  The alien shuttle was faster than anything comparable on board the  _Eve,_ and the assembled women almost jumped at the sounds of the airlock accepting it. But when the doors finally hissed open, no one - and nothing – came out. Instead, everyone nearby stumbled and shuddered, a few of the security staff collapsing to the floor, as a message was crudely, brutally forced directly into their thoughts. The nuance and connotation alien and painful to consider, but the meaning utterly clear. 

**Your Leader will attend us, with two other shells. If she justifies herself, you may keep your lives.**

Serena shuddered with something that wasn’t just fear or pain at that, rubbing her thighs together as she got her bearings and walked into the waiting dark, ominous shuttle. Though by the time she’d started walking her ambassador was already darting inside. Mia was an utter xenophile in every sense of the term, not to mention a habitual risk-taker – though her near-telepathic levels of intuition ensured that all the stupid bets she made playing increasingly lewd variations on poker on the long interstellar voyages had almost always paid off, and she wasn’t about to let go of a winning streak now.

Rhea was the least eager of the three (a running trend with most intellectual qualities), but as soon as she realized she was being left behind the 25-year-old blonde rushed into the gaping opening in the dark, cold, unfurnished shuttle. The door closed behind her as soon as she had, with a heavy thud that she couldn’t help feel felt a bit final.  It was then that she noticed that weren’t alone, and let out an involuntary little shriek. 

Their host was  a towering mountain of muscle in a distinctly masculine shape, some variety of thick, bullet-proof material hanging over it in an armless tunic that left everything below the lower thighs totally exposed. His thick, leathery green skin was covered in scars, one of his wicked-looking tusks cracked halfway down its length. Beyond moving between them and the door once it closed, he didn’t respond, or seem to even notice their existance-or his own. 

Despite the total inadequacy of her uniform for the ship’s near-freezing temperatures – the blonde sisters were huddling together and rubbing against each other for warmth within a few minutes – Mia spent a solid half of the interminable trip attempting to get through to the hulking alien brute. By the time she gave up and slid, skin pale, teeth chattering, into the warmth of the taller, curvier blondes, she done everything up to flashing it to try to get a response. The only thing that did was attempting to walk past it into what seemed like the pilots cabin – and given how effortlessly it grabbed her and lifted her off on the ground with one hand, wordlessly throwing her back, she wasn’t about to try that twice. 

Their journey eventually ended, with no warning or fanfare beyond the loud thud of the ship sliding into its bay. The door slid open, revealing an identically decorated – and just as cold – hallway. Then the same voice burned into their skulls once more.

**Follow the thrall**

By the time any of them recovered, the brute was easily 20 meters away, walking steadily on his trunk-like legs, and it was all any of them could do not to trip on their stilt-like uniform heels as they ran to catch up. By the time the thrall stopped at one of the doors regularly set into the wall – utterly identical to all the others – all three of them were panting, and poor Mia looked about a minute from passing out entirely. 

The door slid open before them almost as soon as the slight ambassador had caught up with her comrades, gasping and wheezing.  The alien thrall stood by the entrance as all three of them walked inside, and rapidly discovered what the aliens concept of luxury looked like. Mia was for a moment distracted by the frescos and engravings covering seemingly every inch of the dark metal walls, inset lights providing a sickly green illumination for the whole chamber and letting her try to make sense of what seemed like a continuous celebration of slavery and domination – of collars and whips and figures that looked much like the one they had been following, groveling or in pain. The alien’s strange hieroglyphic alphabet ran above and below every image, but even as she got close enough to run her hand over the wall and feel the engravings, focusing too long on the letters just gave her a headache. Which meant she looked away – and very quickly joined the other two women in focusing on the  _ other _ occupants of the room (with, it should be said,  _ marginally _ more dignity). 

Flanking the door and, opposite them, standing on either side of the rooms only piece of furniture were four more of the species that had led them here. They were rather better kept than the last specimen, standing taller, their tusks unbroken, their thick dull green screen unmarred by scar or burn, their inhuman musculature perfectly defined beneath it. And, in contrast to the armoured tunic of the last, all four of them were entirely naked. 

And, as anyone following either of the blonde’s enraptured gazes would see, very,  **very** male. 

Mia, the dutiful diplomat, managed to pull her eyes away and focus on the room’s centrepiece. A throne, built into the floor of the chamber with a canopy set over it. It’s occupant – obviously their actual host – was...

Her first instinct was revulsion. An animal impulse filling her with disgust until she wanted to vomit, telling her to run. Of course, Mia hadn’t ended up the Eve’s ambassador by accident, and as her breath shortened and she was almost shivering with anticipation, she crept forward to get a better look.

It was a spindly, slimy looking thing. A long, narrow body with limbs that seemed too stretched out to support anything at all, covered in some sort of full body black robe. Its skin was an ugly blue-green, its head looking like a particularly mean-spirited sort of squid with tendrils reaching halfway down its chest, its hands ending in four boneless, prehensile looking tendrils in place of fingers. Its six eyes were a glossy black, and looking into them just triggered the disgust reaction even strongly.

But then, so did the revolting slurping noise it made, as it once again forced its desires into their minds with all the subtlety and finesse of a drunken man with a sledgehammer.

**Aliens. Identify Yourselves. Justify Yourselves. Prostrate Yourselves.**

That, at least, got Serena and Rhea’s attention away from the dead-eyed but impressively hung bodyguards, who had remained totally unresponsive e ven as Rhea walked up and gave one of them a stroke, then knelt and pressed her arm against it to verify it was, in fact, just as thick as her bicep while entirely soft . 

At Mia’s urgent motion, all three of them complied with the direction, getting on their knees on the cold metal floor, their breath beginning to frost as Serena ignored the discomfort and her gut reaction to the alien, eyes glittering and an earnest smile on her face as she fell into the well-practiced official first contact speech, finally getting a chance to say the words to something beyond herself in the mirror.

"Greetings, I am Captain Serena of the starship UNS Eve, and this is my ambassador Mia, and my sister E nsign Rhea . We are the species 'human' from the planet Earth, and we are peaceful explorers, the first of our kind in the stars.-"

She was interrupted as the alien stirred, standing from its throne – taller than it seemed, still dwarfed by its thralls, but more than enough to tower over the kneeling women – and walked up to her (given the damp trail left on the metal behind it, the lack of visibility might have been a mercy). 

It reached out with one ‘finger’ and put it under her chin, forcing her to look up and meet its beady, colourless gaze. The thoughts forced into her skull were almost enough to give her a migraine, as her nerves and hormones struggled to translate its confusion and annoyance to something she could experience.

**‘Captain’? These are your thralls?**

**Your thoughts...grate. I require direct c** **ommunion** **. I require a thrall.**

"I'm not sure what you mean by 'thrall'. In my species, we do not have servant species, and our own species has mutual respect as equals, even if we accept a  hierarchy among ourselves at times. I am the leader of the group, and R hea is the lower ranked crewmember, I suppose."

Her eyes were watering from the experience already, and the discomfort was making her thoughts more sluggish than they should be – despite wracking her brain, she was coming up with a blank on what ‘communion’ was. 

The alien seemed to grow agitated at that, another slurping noise coming form its hidden mouth, the tentacles hanging down-inches form Serena’s face, letting her see how damp they seemed, even in the perpetual chill-writhing and jabbing into the air, only barely avoiding touching her. The connection somewhat established, his increasing annoyance and confusion was dumped directly into Serena, though the feelings didn’t exactly translate  between species. 

** I demanded your leader. Not the [best/favourite/first] thrall. Is this insult? Attack? Who Owns you? I require Communion.**

He leaned closer in as he ‘spoke’, his tentacles running across her face, naturally going towards her eyes, nose, mouth and ears. The other two girls were close enough and similar enough in brain waves to get the ‘words’ in his agitated state, even if they didn’t  receive the second-hand emotions.

Which meant that, as Serena opened her mouth to start explaining the fleet hierarchy, Mia gave her a sharp elbow to the ribs, hissing “Just say yes!” into her captain’s ear. The petite ambassador had a pretty good idea of what was about to happen, and her only regret was the pang of jealousy that she was only going to get to experience it second-hand. 

So the blonde took a deep breath, and nodded. “I am the leader of the humans on the ship. You could say I own them, no one owns me. And I accept Communion.”

Or, well, she got to the point of saying “Com-” before the alien took her up on the offer. It leaned forward and its longest, most muscular tentacles wrapped around her skull and dragging her off her feet. With shocking strength it lifted her through her air and slammed her onto its throne, as another tentacle began forcing its way down her throat and thinner, more sensitive tendrils snaked through her hair and began digging into her scalp, and pressing against her ears.

Of course, the ever-so-dignified captain wasn’t exactly resisting. She even maintained her composure as three of the four ‘fingers’ on one of its hands went under her skirt and pushed her panties to the side, beginning to roughly finger-fuck her as electrical currents began to run through the tendrils digging into the skin on her scalp and pressing against the openings of her ears. Pressing right through to her grey matter as the evolved alien being began to tear the necessary knowledge and context right out of her.  Spreading her legs wide, presenting her waxed and hairless pussy to it, she gurgled around her tendrils fucking her throat, hoping that it could get everything it needed to open proper diplomatic relations out of this Mind-Meld. Though if he was too alien to comprehend, oh well. In any case, no one was braver than Captain Serena.

The two thralls flanking the throne stood ready to intervene if either of her crewmates tried to save her, but they really didn’t need to bother. Mia was watching the whole spectacle with undisguised hunger. And Rhea was, well, Rhea hadn’t even paid attention for long enough to see what was happening to her sister.

As soon as the alien was clearly focused on Serena, her gaze had shifted back towards to thralls on either side of the doorway. And then her hand was trying and failing to wrap around its obscene, flaccid girth. As she gently played with it and lifted it in her hands, she learned two things. First, even soft, it was heavier than the weights she used to keep her arms toned during her workout sessions. And second, even though they were acting like brainless statues, the thralls were still men, and the stimulation had an effect.

Watching the 8’ monstrosity’s cock grow and harden – and he was even larger than a human’s his size would be – quickly captivated the blonde bimbo’s full attention. It was as thick and as long as her arm from shoulder to elbow, ending in an angry greenish-red head, thick, sludge-like precum already beginning to slowly drip from it. As rigid and immovable as ever other muscle on the hulking brute’s body.

Obviously, she leaned down and gave it a kiss. She wouldn’t have passed the psych tests to serve on the  _ Eve _ otherwise.  So she squatted down and left the diplomacy to her sister, sos he could focus on having some fun and getting a story she could brag about back home. Stretching her mouth painfully wide, she engulfed the thrall’s cockhead in it, shivering and gagging with disgust and arousal on the texture and taste as she did her best to swallow it down. 

Then she kept going. Bobbing her head up and down the shaft of the motionless brute like it was some impossibly lifelike sex toy, one hand stroking the shaft she hadn’t reached while the other was buried under her bright red skirt, glad she hadn’t bothered wearing panties as she fingered herself almost as violently as the treatment her sister was enjoying.

Serena, meanwhile, was dealing with a  _ much _ more active partner. The long, boneless, prehensile ‘fingers’ pounded in and out of her presented cunt, wrapping around each other in a constant spiralling motion, shifting and rubbing against her even as they plunged in and out with brutal force, more interested in getting  _ a  _ reaction out of her than making sure it was a  _ pleasant _ one. The alien’s spindly body loomed over hers, more of the tendrils – something like tongues, as Mia would later write in the report – slamming in and out of her throat as it was fucked just as roughly as her cunt. The more  more delicate and specialized appendages dug into her scalp  pressed against her skull, or insinuated themselves into her grey matter . The sensation was, well, electric. 

The headache was crippling, obviously. She could actually feel her memories being torn out of their normal place and held up for examination-first all of her most intense, painful, degrading, humiliating, triumphant, pleasurable experiences (and she could just [i]feel[/i] those emotions getting mixed up with each other in the process), and then all her years of schooling pulled out in a rush-every bit of human history, culture, science and technology.  But she didn’t mind one bit, her legs twitching and her toes curling in instant and constant orgasm from the assault. 

Even as her mind was raped and re-written - new beliefs about her mission’s goal, who she worked for, and the importance of human life all fucked in her mind until they were just as certain as the need to breath – she just happily slurped on the tongue fucking her throat, almost mirroring her whore of a sister. The mental violation and rape just felt right to her, once they began, and she only grew more willing to share her very  _ self _ with this highly advanced being  as she was torn apart and stitched back together in a strange way, melding emotions together until pain and pleasure, degradation and  triumph , humiliation and pride were all  inseparably connected . She didn't comprehend any damage to her brain, and she would only feel more confident about her mission and mandate as he 'corrected' her thinking.

The other two women, meanwhile, suddenly felt a new voice in their heads. Or, rather, a new memory, with an overpowering sense of deja vu. Both could suddenly clearly remember their captain giving them an order just moments before, though she was clearly in no state to speak. 

_ “ You-you’re my thralls. I’m the owner of the ship and its crew. A-and thralls should be nude when they d-don’t need clothing. S-strip.” _

Neither needed to be told twice. Rhea was always happy for an excuse to strip, especially when her sister was having more fun than her  _ again.  _ She clearly had a lot of practice at it, too, and in under a minute her blonde bombshell of a body was on full display and she was back to gagging herself on the Thrall’s cock. Mia,  meanwhile, would do anything to ensure smooth relations with an alien species – even if the petite redhead was more than a bit jealous she wasn’t the one being ‘communed’ with as she tossed her uniform to the floor, her nipples hard and her pussy more than a bit damp form watching the show so far. 

The alien -  no, Serena knew now, he was an Enslaver-a Thrallbreaker, Overseer, Souldrinker, Dreamtaker, and a dozen other names –  was clearly having fun playing with its food, and paid no mind to the two women once they were nude. 

Instead, it focused on fucking Serena in body and mind. Flooding her brain with some of its favourite past meals as it did -  a dozen particularly proud and powerful aliens being completely broken into obedient little dolls, slaves, and fucktoys. The good Captain would never be able to cum again without getting stuffed until something started to tear and treated like a piece of meat. And she was always going to melt like butter whenever anyone-or anything-used her or put her in her place. 

Simultaneously, her opinion of her ~~crew~~ thralls was corrected. They were chattel, and wearing clothing when they didn’t need it for a pragmatic purpose was an intentional insult to her authority. Just like anyone trying to question her orders. Or go over her head.

Even as she gave herself over totally, at least she was sure that it wasn’t editing her dedication to the mission. To ensure humanity had a good reputation with as many species as possible, but doing anything and everything demanded of them by anything with a pulse. And especially to find out how many different species humanity can breed with-and to use all the ship’s scientific faculties to increase that number.

The Enslaver’s pleasure coursed through her – in an electric shock that made her whole body buck and spasm. Human’s were a delicacy like it had never encountered before. Intense free will, paired with a desperate desire to be conquered, enslaved, dominated, or just fucked senseless like no other species it had encountered.

As the captain bucked and shuddered and moaned in the tendrils skull-fucking her, her mind full of all the changes she’d have to make, and all the depravities humanity could look forward to, Mia was getting worried that her commanding officer might not make it. Creeping forward and reaching out, she grabbed one of the busty blonde’s ankles and whispered “C-captain? Are you okay?”

That was a mistake.

The Enslaver had a taste for human minds, now. There was no unnecessary spillover or brutality as it reached into Mia’s mind. Just pure, paralyzing, animal fear, accompanying a simple and clear message.

**Undisciplined Thrall. Do not interfere with your betters.**

Then, as her hand stayed frozen on Serena’s ankle for just a moment longer, it formed a connection.  Leading to the captain giggli ng around the alien tongue sliding into her throat as she realized what was about to happen to her ambassador, as the two Thralls flanking the throne finally moved. 

The slight redhead let out a gasp as rough, leathery hands gripped her by the armpits and jerked her into the air. She didn’t struggle beyond some reflexive thrashing, if only because she knew she didn’t have a chance in hell – the thrall’s biceps were nearly as thick as her waist, and he would probably have been able to effortlessly benchpress her one-handed. 

Now that it had been given a purpose, the thrall’s obscenity of a cock hardened on command, pointing straight up and pressing lightly against the ambassador’s tightly, horribly under-sized and unprepared asshole.

Not that she had time to really consider that, as the second Thrall walked up and grabbed her ankles, forcing them up on either side of her head – leaving her neatly trimmed ginger landing strip, and the hole beneath it, fully exposed as a second monstrous alien cock hardened to press against it.

The two of them let gravity do much of the work, but they gave it all the help it needed. ‘Fucking’ was barely the right word – they were using the tiny ginger diplomat as a masturbation aid, slamming her down on their cocks and then dragging her off of them. Again and again and again,  as gentle and merciful as the pistons of a machine. Within the first half-dozen strokes the one gripping her ankles was slamming against her cervix at the apex of each thrust, and the one behind her was brutally stretching her ass just as deep. 

And the ambassador, xenophile and masochist that she was, was cumming every time they did. As the connection to Serena stabilized and the mental alterations began to flow through to her as well-at least, the ones determining when and how she would be able to take pleasure from  anything- from now on she’d never have it any other way. She bit her lip as she convulsed with pleasure, trying her very best not to let out any potentially impolite cries of pleasure or pain as her holes were ruined for any man who was even close to human. Gripping her ankles in her own hands to show what a good thrall she’d be, her eyes started to roll back in her head as she steadily lost any trace of restraint as they _just didn’t stop_. 

Her cervix didn't survive t he battering, c aving easily from their pounding as her legs twitched from the fucking. She held on tight to endure the assault, and would enjoy it even if what she felt couldn't be called 'pleasure' in any form. Despite the empathic touch to Serena being so brief, the link would let him in completely for his compulsions to become an alien slut had written itself into the redhead twice as strongly as her superior, and Mia needed to receive these alien's lust. The more degrading and rough they were, the happier she'd be. She felt them jerk her up and down faster and faster, her belly bulging so obscenely, either blonde might h ave wondered if she was suffering internal damage if they had been paying attention. Her head lolled around and her p erky litted tits bounced as her body was used more like an onahole than a person. Luckily, Mia (and the whole crew) would never desire the cock of their own species ever again... only an alien twice as big or more as the biggest human cock.  She was a true prize, her mind yielding and twisting as easily as her body, and a perfect, trusted conduit to warp and corrupt the rest of the crew once it was done. 

Rhea, meanwhile, was dealing a bit worse with suddenly having an active partner, not that she wasn’t enjoying it.  The thrall’s massive green hand reached out and engulfed her head without warning (well, not anything that she had been paying attention to) and, with one effortless flex of its muscles, gave her some very rough and forceful help in seeing just how much throat-stretching, jaw-dislocating cock she could stuff down her gullet. Her eyes were watering as he dragged her down his shaft, her entire world the endless slab of cock and the impossibly detailed muscles of the Thrall beyond it. Spit, precum and tears dripped freely from her face to mix into a puddle on the floor as she gagged, wretched and moaned around the pillar of alien cock, her fingers slamming in and out of her own cunt in a loud – through even with her hands tied up behind her, the blonde would have cum from t he feeling of a cock like this rubbing against her tongue and sliding down her throat before too long. 

The other two girls, mildly connected to the Enslaver as they were, would realize what was going to happen to her next before she did. The fourth and final thrall was surprisingly silent as it approached, giving Rhea no time to prepare except the moment between his hands grabbing her hips and dragging her ass into the air, and his fat, hard, totally unlubed cock slamming down into her utterly unprepared ass.

Rhea let out a loud squealing noise around the cock lodged in her throat as the two Thralls quickly settled into a brutalizing  rhythm as they spitroasted her. Not that her fingers slowed down for one minute as the dove in and out of her otherwise neglected cunt, and obscene froth leaking freely from her painfully stretched lips with every thrust in and out of the brute skullfucking her. She felt more and more pain as everything inside her was rearranged into a better cocksleeve, her guts and throat screaming at her – and it felt  _ amazing _ . As her ass was utterly destroyed, she came for a second, third and fourth time – living proof that humans craved degradation and abuse all on their own. 

It went on like that for what felt like an eternity – about half an hour, in truth – until only the constant over stimulation was keeping the girls at all conscious, every bit of conscious thought or higher function brutally fucked out of their minds. Then, finally satisfied with the changes it had made with the captain, the Enslaver began to disengage.  A somewhat involved process, since it wanted Serena to be able to walk and talk afterwards. Pulling its ‘hand’ from her gaping gash was the fastest, and that still took long seconds and an immensely lewd, wet, slurping noise. Actually pulling itself out of her mind without leaving her a sex-addled lunatic or brain dead took even longer – and while it was engrossed in pullling its tendrils off her brain one by one, her needy cunt was left empty, her hips bucking wildly, desperately inviting anyone to fuck her. It took barely ten seconds before she was basically fisting herself to provide the urgently needed stimulation. 

All four Thralls came simultaneously, once they received the command too. Their loads were just as thick and massive as either girl could have hoped, and left both redheaded ambassador and blonde ensign bloated, with disgusting alien seed leaking freely form their ruined holes. Mia was unceremoniously dropped into the puddle that had formed beneath her from all the intermixed juices, while Rhea spent long seconds hacking and coughing up alien jizz as he careflessly pulled out form her throat mid-orgasm. 

The Enslaver spoke into all three of their minds one last time, by now utterly assured that none of them would even dream of resisting it. 

**The Captain and her diplomat-thrall will return to her ship, and educate her other thralls.**

**The junior thrall will remain, as hostage and tribute. Do not defy the Dominion, and she will live.**

**Leave.**

Serena limped over, helping Mia stand from the whimpering fetal position she had fallen into. She barely looked over her shoulder as she called out “ Enjoy your vacation R hea . I trust you will be a good example of humanity for us,”  with a grin on her face. She didn’t feel a shred of concern for her sister, and was oddly certain her master would take good care of her until they were reunited. 

The last sound either of the other two women heard as the door slid closed beside them was Rhea’s involuntary screams as she was jerked in their air, and two Thralls got in position to fuck her previously neglected cunt simultaneously. 

Not that that got any reaction but jealousy form either of them. 


End file.
